


The Tiger, the Bitch and the Crime Lord

by TheTrustyArmySniper



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, F/M, Guns, Jealousy, Knives, M/M, lifts?, mature content, vague mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrustyArmySniper/pseuds/TheTrustyArmySniper
Summary: Jim always gets what he wants. Even if it means playing straight, and watching his full-time sniper and bodyguard, part-time bed warmer lose his tiny little tiger brain.In one afternoon, Jim seduces a woman, Seb gets pissed and someone ends up needing stitches.
Relationships: Jim Moriarty/Original Character, Sebastian Moran & Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty, Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	1. Playing Straight

There were a variety of tools in Jim's acting chest that he regularly and successfully implemented in order to get what he wanted. 

  
If a client deemed themselves to be incredibly important - whether they actually were or not - Jim had a way of submitting silently and playing to their ego, dumbing himself down so they could feel special. If a client seemed terrified during their meeting (rightly so, of course; Jim _was_ fucking terrifying), Jim would find a way to calm their nerves. He'd have an assistant - who was he kidding, he'd have _Sebastian_ \- bring them tea, he'd laugh too much at their jokes, and then wait until they were comfortable again to go for the jugular. 

  
Over the last two years, Seb had stood watch in meeting after meeting as Jim coaxed drug lords, murderers and world-class thieves into giving him exactly what he wanted. He'd seen him threaten and plead, pander and demand. As Moriarty's right hand man, he liked to think he'd seen every facet of Jim's acting talents.

  
He was, as usual, quite wrong.

  
Today, Jim looked even more fucking delicious than he usually did, if that were at all possible. He was wearing the new grey suit he'd had Seb pick up for him yesterday (so he'd peaked in the bag, who wouldn't?), and his freshly trimmed hair was slicked back to perfection. Whilst he never _really_ could grow anything in the form of decent facial hair, he'd shaved anyway, and his brows were sharper and blacker than normal.

  
The final weird piece of the puzzle was the cologne he'd chosen to drown himself in that morning, before leaving for the airport. It was a scent Seb had smelled on his boss only a handful of times; and all of those times ended in him bending Jim over one hard surface or another. Sometimes a few in one night.

  
If Sebastian didn't know any better, he'd think Jim was on his way to a date.

  
As if he could sense Seb thinking about him, Jim turned his head, smirking as he caught his sniper-come-body-guard watching him as they emerged into the hotel lobby. He liked doing that; catching Sebastian in the act. Seb had stopped being embarrassed about his unending attraction to his boss a long time ago, but sometimes it still caught him off guard. Not today, though. Seb was working on his professionalism, thank you very much.

  
"Today's client is a little different, Moran." Jim said, hint of a smile in his voice. Oh fuck. That rarely meant anything good. "So behave." He tossed him a flash of a grin over his shoulder, before pushing open the doors to the private meeting room of the hotel.

***

  
The first thing Seb noticed about today's client was that she was incredibly beautiful. Christ, it had to be the first thing anyone noticed about her. Plump lips spread over perfect teeth as she stood to greet Jim, revealing a distinctly curvy figure under a tight black dress. She extended a perfectly manicured hand, with nails that matched the blood-red colour of her lips. 

  
"Elena Morozov. Pleasure to meet you, even on such short notice."

  
Her accent was a strange mixture of British and Russian, but that wasn't the first thing Seb noticed. The first thing he noticed was the slight purr to her voice, shorty followed by the look in her eyes as she watched his boss. 

  
Oh. Oh, fuck no.

  
"The pleasure's all mine, Miss Morozov." Seb heard, as Jim took the hand he'd just shaken and raised it to his lips.

  
The woman smiled at the gesture, watching him with... well, what was that? Lust? Fucking hell...

  
Jim released her hand after pressing a soft kiss to it, that Sebastian was fairly sure lasted for far too long, and began undoing the buttons on his suit jacket to sit. Seb moved in a daze, standing with his back to the door, facing the table that the pair now sat at alone.

  
_"Be professional, Sebastian."_ He thought, as the woman tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes never leaving Jims. _"Be fucking professional."_

***

Women were not Jim's area of expertise. The handful of women he'd fucked in his life had all payed him for the pleasure, a long time ago when he was just a petty thief hard up for cash, clawing his way up the crime ladder and struggling to survive. But in his short time selling himself on the street, he learned that there were certain things that worked on everyone, whatever they had below the belt. Touching, smiling, eye contact, compliments... it was all easy. So easy that Jim wasn't sure why he still got such a rush from it.

  
Morozov watched him with dark eyes as Jim spoke, outlining the contract they'd already discussed on the phone, his fingers purposefully fiddling with the pen in his hand. She watched as his fingers moved, and he made a point to make his movements slower, fingertip circling the pen lid. He didn't think it'd be this easy, but Elena was falling for it all. Did he really look that much sexier when he slicked his hair back?

  
Time to take it up a notch, James. Couldn't let himself get bored, now could he?

  
"You know, I think if we-" He looked back up to Elena for the first time in a while, purposefully meeting her eyes... and thought of the scene in his bed two nights ago. 

>   
>  _Sebastian's head lay in his lap, fingers pushed inside his arse as he teased his cock with his tongue. "You'll have to ask nicer than that if you want to fuck my throat, kitten."_  
>  _"Mmh, fuck... please, Sebby. Please just-"_  
>  _His fingers curled, making Jim's back arch involuntarily and forcing a moan from his mouth._  
>  _"Please what, Jim? Use your words..."_

It seemed to have done the trick. Jim's cheeks blazed red at the memory as he looked at her, attempting to ignore the slight bulge in his trousers; a mere side effect, but one he was sure he'd be able to get rid of. He feigned the inability to think of something to say, and after a perfectly timed moment, he laughed, shaking his head and glancing down at her lips. 

  
"I'm sorry, Miss Morozov, I just... you must get this a lot, but you're just so... incredibly beautiful. Sorry. Excuse me." He'd used the trick time and time again. It rarely worked with men, but for women, he supposed there was a power in feeling breathtakingly - literally - beautiful. 

  
And Jim had gotten very good at faking his desire.

  
Elena returned the blush, a dazzling smirk playing on her lips. Oh, Jim could definitely see the appeal in this woman. If he wasn't so incredibly gay, maybe he wouldn't have to fake the admiration.

  
"Apologies. My clients are normally unattractive, middle-aged men. But you're... dazzling, Miss Morozov." 

  
She watched him for a moment, as if trying to decide if he was serious or not. Jim was almost positive that many men had played the same sort of act on her before, assuming she was stupid enough to be seduced into taking a shitty deal. 

  
The difference with Jim was that he knew she wasn't an idiot. And more importantly, he was better than everyone else. Obviously.

  
As if to confirm what he already knew to be true, her tongue darted out to lick along her lower lip, unconsciously letting Jim know that she accepted his attempts at seduction. She smiled, leaning in slightly across the table. "Please. Call me Elena."

  
Triumph. 

***

  
Seb watched from beside the door, arms behind his back, one hand on the gun tucked into his waistband and his teeth gritted so hard, his jaw was starting to ache.

  
It was stupid to be like this, he knew that. He had no right to be... well. There was really no other word for it than jealous. Sure, he spent more than half the week in his boss's bed, but Jim wasn't his. They'd had that conversation. 'Non-exclusive' was a phrase he'd reminded himself of every time Jim had given him the slip and he'd lain awake in his own bed, scrolling endlessly through Grindr. 

  
And he'd tried it, really he had. 'Non-exclusivity' sounded fun on paper, after all. A blowjob in the bathroom stall of his favourite pub, a poorly organised threesome with two guys who were at least ten years younger than him, a gloryhole at a seedy porn cinema... each time, he went in with an open mind. And each time, he'd left frustrated and unsatisfied, thinking about how much better it would be if it was Jim undressing him.

  
Until now, he'd managed not to think about Jim with someone else. He convinced himself his boss didn't have the time to find other men to fuck. That it was too dangerous for him to play around with Grindr like Seb did, that he was much more particular about his bedmates than he was... but he hadn't thought about the possibility of _women_ in Jim's bed. And now, he was forced to deal with the truth.

  
Jim. Wasn't. His.

  
Seb thought about the cigarettes in his front pocket as Jim slid a hand under the table, his fingers coming to rest on the woman's bare knee as she giggled. From here, he watched Jim's fingers swirl little circles on her lower thigh, just like the ones he drew on Seb's chest after a satisfying fuck, and he felt sick. 

  
He wondered how Jim would react if he just... shot her. His fingers tensed on his gun. It'd be so easy. If he got her right between the eyes, she wouldn't have time to say another word. Seb quite liked the idea of never hearing her talk again...

  
But just when he thought he might carry out his sinister plan... Jim's head turned, and he met Seb's eye. His boss gave him a faux-innocent look, before winking, eyes locked as his fingers slid slightly higher up her thigh.

  
And just like that, the anger the sniper felt quickly turned to rage. The fucker was doing this on _purpose_. 

  
Seb stared forward, focusing his attention on the potted plant in the corner of the room, as he thought about snapping Morozov's neck. Professionalism. Professionalism. Pro-fucking-fessionalism, Moran...

  
Jim turned his attention back to Elena before she could notice his glances to his prized sniper, and he lowered his voice to a whisper, ensuring Seb couldn't hear a word of the vaguely sexual nonsense he uttered to her.

  
This, Jim decided, just became a whole lot more fun.

  
Sebastian Moran was jealous.

  
The woman blushed, eyes flicking down to his lips, then back to Jim's eyes, before she let out a dry laugh and turned slightly away. "Flattery will get you everywhere." She admitted. "But I know better than to let a pretty man trick me into signing something." She turned her attention momentarily to the contract on the table, that Jim had laid out minutes earlier, before his relentless flirting had begun.

  
"If you can make this number a little bit bigger, perhaps we can both leave here... satisfied."

  
Jim made sure not to let his eyes move from hers, teasing smile playing on his lips. He moved the hand from her thigh, swapping it for his other hand, which he rested just a little higher up on the opposite thigh. It was, of course, a coincidence that Sebastian now had a much better view of exactly where Jim's hand moved. _Complete_ coincidence.

  
"I can do a thirteen percent increase. But only if you let me take you dinner, next time I'm in the city."

  
Now he knew just how rattled Sebastian was getting, Jim couldn't stop pushing his buttons. They'd been sleeping together on and off for six months after all, and in all that time they'd still never had angry sex.

  
Maybe if he played his cards right, they could change that tonight.

  
The new incentive for angry sex reinvigorated Jim's efforts, and when he looked at Elena again he winked, eyes sparkling. The Russian glanced at the numbers again, pretending that she hadn't already made her mind up as she twirled a strand of hair around her fingers. "Dinner? Hm. Such a gentleman." She bit her lip, leaning in slightly. "Perhaps if you play your cards right, I'll let you slip that hand over more than just my thigh." She met his eyes as she picked up Jim's pen, and Jim smirked, fingers brushing against the skin on her thigh, not climbing any higher, but stirring her enough that she shivered.

  
And with that, Sebastian had just about had e-fucking-nough.

  
He checked his watch, barely noticing the actual time, before clearing his throat and approaching the table. He tried his hardest not to look like a bratty kid asking his mum if they could leave, but he had no doubts about his lack of success.

  
"I'm incredibly sorry, sir, but we're going to miss our flight if we don't leave soon." He tried to sound sincere, but the acid in his voice was impossible to ignore. He'd pay for this, but at this point, it was hard to care. "Car's waiting."

  
Jim caught Seb's eye for a moment, silently amused at the other's reaction, before peering back across at Elena with a frustrated look a second later. A testament to the true artistry of Jim's facial expressions. Time to play with his Tiger. 

  
"Sorry, Elena. It seems as though we've let time get the better of us." He purred, hand finally moving from her thigh for good, as he took her hand in both of his. He lifted it gently to his lips, then kissed it once more, lingering for a moment longer than was probably strictly professional.

She glanced at the sniper, but she wasn't interested in him. He was just the security detail, after all. "Nothing I can do to make you stay, hm?"

  
Jim pretended to look pained, checking his own watch. "If it were up to me, heaven and Earth couldn't force me onto that plane. But London calls."

  
She nodded with a smile, scribbling the alterations onto the contract and signing it. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, James." Her voice was like silk as she watched Jim dip into his pocket, producing a matt black, embossed card. His initials were printed on one side, with a singular string of numbers on the other side. 

  
"My personal number. Call me. At any time, about... anything." He winked at her one last time as he slid the card into her hand, before gesturing for Sebastian to collect the contract. With the document secure he stood, buttoning his suit jacket once more and heading for the door, a grumpy Sebastian following closely behind.

***

Sebastian started heading towards the lobby again, but Jim barked a single word, stopping him in his tracks.

  
"Lift."

  
They were silent as they approached the elevators, James only speaking to thank the concierge as they climbed in. Sebastian couldn't shake the fury, anger threatening to bubble over as he stared at the closing doors of the lift.

  
As soon as they were alone again, he heard Jim speak. 

  
"She seemed nice, don't you think?"

  
"Charming." Sebastian scoffed, and Jim feigned ignorance of the other man's insolence, tilting his head to the side and staring at the buttons beside him. 

  
"Mmh, charming indeed. I'm sure she's incredibly well practised in bed. Most women that beautiful can fuck whoever they want. Bet she's nice and loud too." He said, managing to sound as though he were simply making these comments off hand, as he pushed the button for the very top floor. 

  
Ah. So that's what this was. Torture, in a confined space. Sebastian wanted desperately not to let himself rise to it, he wanted to take the high road... but Jim wasn't going to make this easy. 

  
He tried to keep his voice level, his stare boring a hole into the doors of the lift."You know, you could have taken a later flight. Or delayed it, if you really wanted to have a go at her." 

  
At that, Jim finally laughed as he turned, leaning back against the wall of the lift, arms folding over his chest as he looked at Seb for the first time since he'd moved his hand from Elena's thigh. His eyes scanned his face, before glancing at his lips, and finally landing on his eyes. 

  
"Our flight isn't for nine hours, Seb." He said softly. "That's not why you dragged us out of there."

  
Seb didn't react, eyes still staring forward, locked on the bloody lift doors. What could he say, really? Admit his jealousy? Please.

  
Jim took his silence as a cue to continue on, and he did, going back to sounding bored as he spoke. "Doesn't matter, anyway. There's always next time. Of course... when I do fuck her, I expect you'll be prepared to keep watch, yes? Just in case something goes awry. We could have you stationed across the street, watching me undress her through the scope of your rifle. Keeping your laser focused on the back of her pretty head as she goes down on me." He let his eyes drift down along Seb's body, noting every point of tension with minor glee. What could he say? The man was attractive when he was murderous. "That won't be a problem, will it Tiger?"

  
"...Stop."

  
Jim wanted to giggle. This was all so /easy/. God, why hadn't he tried this earlier?

  
"After all, the last thing I want is to have her ride me on the bed, head thrown back as she moans... and then having her reach back and pull out a gun. I need you to be watching, just in case you need to take her out."

  
"I said stop."

  
"Stop what?" Jim was trying his best not to sound amused, he really was... but instead, he ended up sounding like a misbehaving school child. Sebastian wanted to scream. 

  
Instead, he sighed, reaching an arm around Jim to press the 'open doors' button.

  
"Doesn't fucking matter, boss." He muttered, as the lift stopped at the nearest floor, and the doors pulled open. 

  
Jim reached out, grabbing Sebastian's wrist tightly with a scowl. "Don't you dare walk away." His tone caught even himself off guard, and when he spoke again it was almost in a whisper. "I asked you a question."

  
Seb stopped, that hand touching him making his chest ache just a little bit less. Even considering the situation. 

  
People had died for far less than being insubordinate to Jim. What made him think he could behave any differently? Especially now, now that he was under no illusion that Jim really cared about him. He was an idiot for ever even imagining he could.

  
"Stop fucking torturing me." 

  
He sounded so bloody sad, Seb could hardly believe those words had fallen from his own mouth. He wanted to punch something, preferably that stupid Russian bitch... but the wall of the lift was starting to look good, too. 

  
"Get back in the lift." Jim practically barked, for once not daring to meet Seb's eyes, until the doors were closed again, with Sebastian safely back inside. 

  
They were silent for a long moment, Sebastian hating himself for saying anything at all, and Jim wondering when his fun little game turned into something more... serious. 

  
"We're not exclusive, Moran." He finally uttered, the lift finally moving again.

  
"I know."

  
"Then-"

  
"I know. I'm sorry. Just forget it, Jim." Seb stared blankly ahead, watching the floor number steadily climb and hoping he'd be able to hold it together until they were at least back on the jet.

  
"I'm gay, Sebastian. I thought that was... painfully obvious. You can't honestly think I'd actually..." He trailed off, before sighing like he was trying to explain something very simple to a toddler. "This is work."

  
"Am I just work?"

  
The question was a stupid one. They both thought it. After all, it was a question they both knew the answer to, deep down.

  
Sebastian had become more than just work the first time Jim had let him stay the night. He was more than just work, in so many different ways, not even Jim would know where to start in articulating it.

  
They stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment longer, sure that the lift was only getting slower as they got higher. Floor 23, 24...

  
Jim hated awkward silences. Pregnant pauses. Elephants in rooms, especially ones as small as this lift. He folded his arms over his chest again, preparing himself to confront an uncomfortable truth, and not at all liking the way his stomach turned to knots when he spoke again. This was quickly becoming less and less fun.

  
"How long have you known that you're in love with me?"


	2. Just a Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to only be two chapters, but I can't help myself.  
> Third and final chapter coming soon. Sorry to be a tease, it's just that sex scenes are hard and I work full time!!

_"How long have you known that you're in love with me?"_

The words swam around Seb's head as he watched his boss, who in turn regarded him with a look Sebastian had never seen before. Was that... pity? Fuck.

He took a deep breath after a long moment, averting his gaze and thinking about getting the fuck out of the lift.

Anything to avoid the question.

Sebastian had realised the deadly little truth two months ago. That night, the wine had been particularly good, and in turn, so had the sex. He lay in the dark on his boss's bed, a gentle breeze drifting through from the open balcony door. From there, he could see the moon; a slither of a crescent, but tonight it was big and beautiful. At the time, he'd rolled his eyes at himself for thinking it all seemed so damn perfect... and then the bathroom door had cracked open.

Jim emerged, completely naked with a towel in his hair. The light made his pale skin look almost luminescent, droplets of water from his shower making him sparkle. He threw his head back, running his fingers through slightly insane hair, before shooting Seb a knowing smirk.

"Enjoying the show?" He teased. And, well... that was it. That was the moment Sebastian knew he was toast. When Jim reached the bed, Sebastian kissed him until he couldn't breathe, then let the little bastard fall asleep on his chest. The whole time wondering how he'd let it all go so... far.

He blinked in the lift now, glancing back over at his boss, who was still waiting for an answer. _"How long have you known that you're in love with me?"_ There'd been no question as to Sebastian's feelings. Jim knew. Of fucking course he knew, it just... was a question of the timeline. 

And even so, Seb couldn't bring himself to give his boss the answer he wanted.

"I don't want to talk about it." He finally admitted, hands shoved into the pockets of his stifling suit, as he found his favourite place to stare at on the door of the lift again. 

He should've known better than to avoid giving Jim what he wanted, though. 

The shorter man sighed, exasperated. This was usually all so easy for him, Seb thought. He had Sebastian wrapped around his little finger. A willing pawn in whatever games he felt like playing that day. Well, not today. He didn't feel like playing today.

"We're talking about it. Tell me."

Seb raised a hand, rifling through his pocket to find his packet of cigarettes. Before he could pull it out, though, he felt a hand on his arm. The same hand that'd been feeling up the Russian bitch in that meeting. And Seb wanted to scream.

He pulled his arm away, his previously well-contained rage threatening to bubble. 

"Don't, Jim. Don't fucking touch me. I'm not talking about anything." 

Sebastian didn't dare look his boss in the eye as he pulled away from him, but if he did, he'd have seen another emotion Jim had never previously shown him. 

James Moriarty was hurt. And then he was very, very angry.

"Open the fucking doors. I'm going to the car." Sebastian had crossed the line. A couple of lines, probably. But he was just a man. A jealous, angry man, who'd fallen for someone he should have never been sleeping with in the first place, and then watched him eye-fuck someone else. He’d cross a couple of damn lines if he wanted to.

A moment passed in silence, and when Seb looked over at his boss again, Jim was twirling a knife around in his fingers. Bone handle, six-inch blade. Sebastian had watched him gut more than a few people with it.

Perhaps he was next.

Instead of burying the blade in Seb's side, as he'd expected, Jim turned to the lift buttons. He tugged at the control panel, then began slicing the wires he encountered with abandon.

The lights flickered, then faded, and the whirrings of the lift mechanics ground to a halt. Somewhere in the distance, Seb heard an alarm, and he swore under his breath.

"What the fuck are you-"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence. In a flash, Jim turned to him, fury in his eyes as he leapt onto him. He shoved him back against the lift wall, hard, and Seb hit his head against the metal. So this was how he died. Could've been worse.

He felt the far-too-familiar sensation of a blade on his neck, and found his boss's incensed, crazy eyes staring up at him.

Even seconds from death, Seb couldn't help but think about how fucking gorgeous he was. 

"You don't bark the orders around here, Moran." He hissed, pressing the knife harder against him. If Sebastian as much as swallowed, he'd break the skin.

"You could've cost me a client today. A _big_ client. So we're going to fucking talk about your little jealous streak, or you're leaving this lift in a body bag." Jim practically spat the words into Sebastian's ear as he held him there, body pressed against his with all his weight. As he pressed against him, Jim's face softened just a little bit, and Sebastian could hardly believe it.

The little fucker was getting _turned on_.

But that didn't mean he was out of danger yet. Seb could easily push him off. Wriggle out of Jim's hold. They both knew he was stronger, and just angry enough to do it.

But he knew much better than to do something like that. He might be insane, but not insane enough to sign his own death warrant.

"Do you understand?" The edge was gone from Jim’s voice now, softening into a purr instead of a threat. The real threat came from the blade, which pressed firmer against his throat, drawing a tiny bead of blood from the point of it. Jim pulled back slightly to watch it with fascination, and if Seb knew him at all, he knew his boss was enjoying this. Sebastian couldn't speak, and so he nodded at his question, and with that Jim pulled back, tossing the knife to the floor.

Seb raised a hand to his throat, wiping away the tiny trickle of blood that he found there. He'd never seen the man so... infuriated before. Gorgeous, aroused, but murderous. Even when killing, Jim was rarely angry. 

"Tell me. When did you know?" He sounded almost bored, now, switching from incensed to uninterested in seconds. Another one of Jim’s acts, Seb knew; If Jim ever sounded bored, he was usually far, far from it.

This time, when Seb reached into his pocket, Jim didn't stop him. He pulled out the packet of cigarettes and put one between his lips, then lit it. A long drag later and he met Jim's eye, then looked down at the floor. Time to face the music.

"The Jackson hit. After that bottle of Pauillac." He took another drag, willing the nicotine high to fix all the tightness in his chest. "Happy?"

Jim tilted his head to the side as he watched him. Like he was trying to decide something. For a second, Sebastian saw the flicker of a smirk - no, a _smile_ \- and then it was gone, face completely unreadable.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

Despite the tension, Seb laughed, cigarette between his lips. "Is that a joke, Jim? Tell you, so what... you'd stop sleeping with me? So you could laugh at me? Push me until I want to break someone’s neck, like you did in that fucking meeting...?" He shook his head. "None of those options sound any fucking good to me."

"This was meant to be casual. It's hardly my fault if-"

"No, this wasn't meant to happen at all." He gestured between the two of them. Jim grit his teeth.

"But it did." He stated, watching Sebastian take another drag. He'd watched him smoke a lot of cigarettes, on the balcony after sex. From the bed, Jim often watched him, the other man's eyes always finding the sky. It was hardly news that the man was a romantic. "And you didn't tell me."

"You knew, though." Seb spat back. He was getting brave again, but what was the point of being quiet now? Seb wasn't stupid. Chances were, he was leaving this fucking box in a damn body bag anyway. Why bother being polite?

"So how long have _you_ known, Jim? How long have you been stringing me along, knowing that I'm irreparably, hopelessly fucking in love with you, hm?" His eyes were wild and accusatory, as he tossed the cigarette butt to the floor, stubbing it out with his shoe. 

The question threw Jim, and he looked... almost embarrassed. Seb felt sick. 

"That's hardly important."

Sebastian wanted to tear his hair out. He sighed, foot drumming against the floor in an attempt to let out some of that pent-up aggression.

"Right. Not important. Of course it's not. Why would my emotions be important to you?" He felt like a fool. With every moment that passed, he only got more embarrassed. How could he have let this happen? 

Jim was unusually silent as Seb swore to himself and made his way to the lift doors, attempting to tug them open. He couldn't stay like this anymore. It was tragic. He worked his fingers in through the crack in the doors, tugging with all his strength, but they refused to budge. And for the first time in a long, long time, Sebastian Moran got the urge to cry.

He’d ruined everything, hadn’t he? He had the best job he’d ever had, on the best pay, with a boss he got to sleep with more nights than not. Why the fuck did he have to do something stupid like fall in love?

"...when I got into bed, that night, you kissed me.” Seb tensed up at Jim’s words. He hadn’t expected to get any answers out of him; after all, that’s not how this relationship worked. “Body language told me something was different. That's when I knew." Jim was trying to sound nonchalant, like the things he said didn't really matter. Like he hadn't carefully selected each word. 

But Seb knew otherwise. He closed his eyes, body still turned completely away from him. “Two months, then.” He finally said, trying to keep the anger in his voice... but he’d never been a good actor, and so he just ended up sounding so incredibly sad. “You could’ve just said two months.”

Jim exhaled sharply out of his nose, almost amused. “Sebby, now you’re just being dramatic.”

“Don’t fucking do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like this is all a damn joke.”

“It _is_ funny, though.”

Sebastian stilled, eyes closed as he faced the lift doors, in an attempt not to lose his composure.

Jim couldn’t help but antagonise him. He admired the way Seb tensed from behind, his strong arms tightening in his suit jacket, as his hands likely balled into fists. He was asking all the wrong questions, now, and Jim didn’t feel like talking about this. The more they talked, the closer he’d get to revealing his feelings. And James Moriarty wasn’t supposed to have those.

You see, the problem was that Jim had fallen for Sebastian long before the other had fallen for him.

It was a complete accident, of course. Sudden, too. All it took was a well-placed kiss and a strong hand on his hip, just one time... and he was infuriatingly smitten. And what made it all the worse is that when Jim had first proposed that the sniper join him in bed, he’d intended for it to be a one-time thing. Twice, if he was good. But Sebastian was more than good. He was strikingly beautiful, intelligent (all things considered), and above everything else... he made Jim feel normal.

And Jim was only a man. It was hardly his fault.

In the weeks following his sudden realisation, he started doing things for Sebastian that he’d never do for anyone else. He’d change the settings in his shower when he was done, for when Seb hopped in next. He hired a personal driver for him, under the guise of ‘extended hours of protection’. He even changed his mouthwash, because he knew Moran liked it when his mouth tasted like lemon. It was, frankly, quite pathetic.

But Sebastian wasn’t allowed to know that yet. Maybe he never would. 

Jim swallowed thickly into the silence of the lift, trying to force any evidence of guilt from his face, and replacing it with a measured smirk. “It’s hilarious, Moran. The way that you recklessly overreact and bottle up all your overwhelming anger brings me only amusement. Look at you.”

He was teasing. Poking the tiger in any possible way he could. They’d gotten too close to having a proper conversation about their relationship, and Jim was flailing. 

Maybe if he could get Seb to hit him, this day would’ve all been worth it, entertainment-wise.

But Sebastian would never do that. Would he?

“Shut the fuck up, Jim.” Came his reply, voice quiet and measured. Jim could hear the vibrating rage in his voice, and he couldn’t help but grin. 

“Or what?”

Sebastian spun, eyes finding Jim’s instantly. He expected to see him... hurt, maybe. Angry. But the little fucker’s eyes sparkled, barely even hiding his grin now. In seconds, Seb closed the space between them, one hand splayed over Jim’s chest as he shoved him backwards. 

Jim gasped, hands reaching behind him to find the lift wall as he stumbled. But for once, Sebastian didn’t seem to care. He pressed Jim against the wall, other hand weaving through Jim’s previously perfectly-gelled hair and gripping the strands between his fingers. He tugged upwards, jolting Jim’s head back to face him again.

“Or I’ll fucking leave you.”

Jim snorted, and Seb tugged his hair again, eliciting a growl from his boss. “You think I’d care?” He asked, desperately hoping that he was successfully concealing the ache in his chest at Sebastian’s threat.

“Oh, I know you’d care.”

Well... that might have answered that question, Jim thought. Fuck.

“Just another employee, Seb. That’s all you are.” He gritted his teeth, the fingers in his hair making him stand on his tiptoes. 

The kiss that came next disproved Jim’s statement. If it could even be described as a kiss. Seb was all teeth as he pressed himself against the other man, canines scrapping against Jim’s lips hard enough they threatened to break the skin. Jim tried to get down from his uncomfortable height, but Sebastian wouldn’t allow it, only tugging at his hair harder and eliciting a moan from his boss. It was a short kiss, but Sebastian was confident it had proven his point as he pulled away. 

“Fire me then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> It's so nice to know there are still a bunch of people into this weird pairing, so long after the release of any canon material. Love u all xoxoxo

**Author's Note:**

> next chapter coming soon~  
> place your bets on who's gonna get the stitches!


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